


Royal Flush

by katyfaise



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Sexual Content, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:49:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/pseuds/katyfaise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t see R’s eyes but he could only assume they mirrored the expression he read in Eponine’s; delight, expectation, and a wicked glint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Flush

Enjolras glanced up, racking his brain to figure out how he’d ended up in this position but not allowing a single emotion to show on his face. Across from him was Grantaire, clad only in his boxers and a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes. Beside R sat Eponine, her fingers absently crawling up and down a bottle of beer as she sat in her bra, although she still had a tiny miniskirt covering her bottom half. He couldn’t see R’s eyes but he could only assume they mirrored the expression he read in Eponine’s; delight, expectation, and a wicked glint.

“Come on, Enjolras,” Grantaire said, drumming his fingers.

With a sigh, the blond haired man relented and laid his cards down on the tabletop.

“Goddamn it…” Enjolras stared down at his pair of twos, being trumped by both of his fellow players hands.

Eponine whooped with excitement – ecstatic that she and Grantaire had finally taken down Enjolras. Compared to the both of them, he was still mostly clothed and had only lost his socks and shoes in their game. With a mutter under his breath that sounded a bit like accusations of cheating, Enjolras pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. Grantaire lowered his glasses to his nose and shared and appreciative glance with Eponine.

“I’m not a piece of meat,” Enjolras said suddenly, color rising to his pale cheeks (and his chest, shoulders, and almost everywhere else on his body). Both Grantaire and Eponine laugh although it makes Enjolras a bit uncomfortable – it’s too hungry of a laugh. “Someone’s a sore loser,” Grantaire noted, grabbing the cards from the table and shuffling them in smooth movements. Once the cards are dealt out, the game is on in full force. Enjolras prefers to stay silent and concentrates on not losing more clothing than he has to while Grantaire enthusiastically nods away at the story Eponine is telling regarding a funny joke she’d heard in class that day. The game goes by so quickly that when their cards are laid down and Eponine has lost, she can do nothing but smirk.

“We don’t have to play a silly game for me to get naked, you know?” She is chuckling as she stands up, making quite a big deal about pulling off the skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination anyway. It tangles around her ankles and she falls to the floor, rather clumsily and inebriated. For a split second, Enjolras confuses the laughter coming from both Eponine and Grantaire for something else and he moved to Eponine’s side, checking to see that she is well. “What a prince you are,” she remarks, her words slurred. Before he can reply, she presses her lips against his hungrily, and Enjolras is caught off guard.

He returns the kiss and is surprised once again when Grantaire’s familiar arms loop around his midsection. Enjolras pulls away from Eponine and spares a glance down; smiling when Grantaire pulls him slightly and their skin comes in contact. It’s such a small action, but watching the two of them together makes a fire rise up from below and Eponine leans forward, trailing kisses along Enjolras’s exposed collarbone until she is close enough to capture Grantaire’s lips with her own. Fingers (though she isn’t sure who they belong to at this point) creep up her back and unhook her bra. With the piece of fabric tossed aside, the three of them are skin on skin and it’s a pleasurable sensation to them all. Grantaire untangles his arms quick enough for Eponine to slip between the two – her boys, the two men she had found herself head over heels for in such a short amount of time.

It takes almost no time for the remaining clothes to be shed and forgotten about.

“You’re cold,” Grantaire notices, running fingers over the goose pimples that litter Eponine’s skin. She giggles and reaches back, lightly touching Enjolras’s cheek and pulling him near. “I suspect you two will solve that momentarily,” she offers, placing light kisses on the blonde’s jaw.

Within moments she is entered by Grantaire and her hands clench around Enjolras’s manhood. The three of them move in sync – a rhythm they had learned well after many nights together. Eponine’s free hand clutches to Grantaire’s shoulder, her nails digging in deep to his light skin as he quickens his pace within her. Enjolras’s lips find Grantaire’s, although they’re all nearing their release. It’s nearly simultaneous that the three of them reach their peak – Enjolras in Eponine’s rough hand and Grantaire once the woman between them tightens around him. The soft moans and heavy breathing fill the space around them and for a few moments the three of them are frozen in their current position – arms and limbs tangled and sweat gluing them together.

The three of them untangle and relax against the cool floor. Eponine longs for a cigarette and Grantaire craves the bottle of whiskey on the table. But for the time being they’re content with resting against each other, unable to truly lose the feeling of skin on skin despite their flushed bodies.

Eponine laughs suddenly, her chest rising and falling with her quiet chuckles.

“What’s so funny?” Enjolras questions, his eyebrow raised.

She nuzzles against Grantaire, a sigh leaving her lips. “Perhaps if I had known losing my skirt would end this way I wouldn’t have cheated for so many hands.”

Both Enjolras and Grantaire sat up, leaving Eponine on the floor between them, her eyes wide and innocent even if she’s the complete opposite. “You minx! You shameless little minx!” Grantaire laughs, although he can’t be too disappointed with the way her plan turned out. Enjolras contemplates scolding her for her actions, but the sight of his two lovers on the floor beside him is enough for his jaw to shut silently. He’d had a royal flush during the last hand and suspected that what was in front of him now was much better than all the poker chips on the table.


End file.
